Sickness
by PoisonTheKitty
Summary: When Canada falls sick, what will the other nations do? Rated K Just to be safe. Human names sometimes used.
1. Chapter 1

Prussia and France walked into the meeting room, worried expressions on their face as they bent their heads, speaking to each other in urgent whispers. They both looked up when their names were called, worry shining in their eyes. England had been the one calling their names.

"You're an hour late you wankers!" the Englishman scolded, his eyes shining in annoyance. "America's not here either, and Canada.. where is he?" he grumbled to himself. France looked at them quietly, then Prussia spoke up.

"Actually, we know where they both are," he said, drawing everybody's eyes to both of them. France nodded,

"Matthieu is sick," France said quietly, "America is looking after him, he told us to come to the meeting," he explained. England raised a worried eyebrow(s),

"What is Canada sick with?" he questioned.

"We don't know, but his temperature is extremely high," France answered.

"He's been coughing and sneezing all night, barely got any sleep. He won't eat, drink, talk, or even move from his bed..," Prussia said silently, his eyes more worried then France's as of now. He was worried about Canada, his boyfriend.. England looked fairly startled now, and he shifted awkwardly in his seat. Russia looked like plain old Russia, but other then that, everybody looked worried.

"I could beat him with my pipe so he gets better, da? It will make him because he'll be to scared to not get better and run away, da?" Russia spoke innocently. Gil stared at him, his eyes twitching.

"No.. no.. we're good..," he said, earning a glare from Russia, which scared him quite a bit. It was normal, though. "Anyway, America's there, Canada's there too," he breathed.

The two countries looked very tired now, they had given up not looking exhausted, England could tell. They were worried, and he... he was too.

"Canada, wake up.. please..,"

America sat by Canada's bedside, his hand gripping the Canadian's extremely pale hand. "Matt, please wake up..," he whispered, frowning. This wasn't like him, no, but he was alone with his sick brother. Who wouldn't. Wake. Up. He turned his hand over again, pressing two fingers against his wrist, checking for a pulse. It was there, but faint like before, and wavering from his unsteady breathing. He sat back silently, glancing at his watch, then his cellphone, then his brother. He looked at his brother for a while, wishing he didn't look so thin, so pale, so sick.. "He'll be fine..," he reassured himself. Canada's body would soon tell him otherwise.

It was the lunch break at the meeting now, but both Prussia and France had refused to eat anything, even after coaxing from England and Germany. They were too worried to eat, to worried to think even. Prussia couldn't remember anything from the meeting, the words had all formed into Canada, Canada, Canada, Canada for him. Gil glanced down, breaking from his thoughts at the ring of his cellphone. He reached into his pocket and glanced at the caller ID, gasping. "America!" he nearly shouted, drawing eyes, once again, to him. He flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked.

"Get the hell over here! Now!" a worried American nearly yelled into the phone. "He's getting worse, I can barely feel a pulse. Get to the hospital dammit!" he shouted, obviously worried, his voice scratching, evidence that he had been crying. Gil had paled visibly at every word the American had said, and he took it in, feeling sick himself suddenly. "Y-yeah, the awesome me and France will be there s-soon..," he whispered, closing the phone. The moment the phone was back in his pocket he grabbed France's shirt. "Come on," he breathed, tears glistening in his eyes. "He's in the hospital!" he breathed.

England's eyes widened. Was it really.. that bad..? "Everybody!" he shouted. "The meeting is done, we have worse matters on out hands at the moment!" he called out. Gil offered him a slight nod of gratitude, before dragging the Frenchman halfway to his car before France finally developed what was happening. He began to run, and they both jumped into the car. They didn't bother doing up their seat belts as they zoomed from the parking lot, running lights to get there, to him.

America set the phone down, climbing into the Ambulance silently but quickly, staring at his brother. He was paler then ever before, sweat beading in his forehead, his breaths barely noticeable. "Canada.., please.. please, be okay..," he whispered, holding his brother's hand, closing his eyes, and letting those rare tears fall..


	2. Chapter 2

America and Canada arrived at the hospital quickly, and Canada was rushed to a room, leaving the scared American waiting in the waiting room. He held his head in his hands as he let his elbows rest on his knees. "Matt..," he whispered, then nearly jumped up at a hand on his shoulder. "A-ah!" he gasped, glancing up at France warily. "Oh.. just you..," he breathed, leaning back against the chair wistfully, his eyes tired. France looked similar to him.

"Alfred.. Where.. where is Matthieu..?" he asked, scared to ask. Scared to know the answer. Alfred simply pointed up, which the Frenchman guessed meant in a room. Alfred glanced up again, mouthing where's Prussia? France tilted his head sideways twice, and America looked over. Gil had his head in his hands and his body was trembling. France moved away from America and sat next to the Prussian, wrapping his arms around him. Gil accepted it and leaned into the the Frenchman quietly.

_

England sat in the meeting room again with a few others, the ones who had enough free time to wait for a call about Canada. These consisted of him, Germany, Italy, and Japan. England sat quietly, glancing at his hands which were held in his lap. He was shaking lightly but tried not to show it. Italy was clinging to Germany, and the tough German was hugging him back silently as the Italian buried his worried face in the German's jacket. Japan just sat there quietly, fiddling with his hands. England, was the most worried of these four though.

_

"Excuse me, sir?"

A young female voice shook America from his sleep and he glanced up. _Where am I..?_ he thought warily, then everything came back to him and he shot up, adjusting Texas a bit. "Yes?" he asked worriedly.

"Are you Alfred F. Jones?" she asked. Alfred nodded. "Matthew Williams is your brother, correct?" she asked again, causing another nervous nod. Gil and France were now just awaking. "You may see your brother for no longer then 20 minutes, sir. He needs rest and the doctors still need to look after him. He's very sick," she informed him. Alfred shot out of his chair, grabbing France and Prussia. After he received the room, he dragged them to the elevator and punched in the floor. The shaking of the elevator and Alfred's explaining and pacing awoke them funny, and they took to a similar state. When the doors opened, Alfred ran out, rushing to the door and stopping, grabbing the know and slowly turning it. He opened the door and..

_

Italy, Germany, and Japan had all fallen asleep by now. It was far past midnight, it had been hours. England remained awake though, his head resting on the table as he fought to stay awake. A sudden ringing interrupted him. The other three shot up while England darted for his phone, flipping the cover and pressing it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked quietly.

_

When America saw his brother his knee's nearly buckled and he had to lean against the door frame for support. He finally made his way over, pulling wooden stool over and sitting on it, grabbing his brother's hand, gasping at how frail it was. Gil and France came rushing in soon after, Gil ran and went to his knees at the Canadians side, grabbing his other hand and burying his face in it. France stayed at the door frame, his skin pale and eyes wide as he leaned against the wall for support. They stayed like this for ten minutes, when a sudden beeping alerted them all. They looked up to the heart monitor, to see it slowing rapidly, causing Alfred's to speed up. He dropped his brother's hand and ran to the hall. "NURSE! DOCTOR! ANYBODY!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, sending a few doctors skidding down the hall, glaring at him. "My brother's heart is slowing down! Help!" he yelled. Their anger instantly melted and they came running, bursting in. One, a female grabbed a machine and wheeled it over, grabbing two shock generators in each hand, rubbing them together while the other looked at the screen warily. He nodded at the female and the other two males. The two males grabbed onto Gil and dragged a now kicking and screaming Prussian from the room. France didn't move, neither did America. Gil was out and just before the door was shut. America saw and heard the female yell, "Three, two, one, CLEAR!" As she put the shockers down and his brothers body went up, falling down again. At this, the door was shut, and America collapsed the the ground, sobbing. France and Gil looked like they were about to do the same, but they grabbed America's arms and legs, carrying him to the elevator and down it, out of the hospital and to the car. They drove towards the meeting place silently.

_

"England..," came the faint whisper. England could hear sobbing, but it wasn't the one he was talking to.

"France..," he whispered, "Is..is he okay..?"

"He..he's getting worse," he answered, causing England to shake harder and pale. "We were visiting him and he was sleeping. His.. his heart monitor was slowing down and the doctors came. They shocked him-"

"SHUT UP!" came the yell of America and France groaned as something hit him.

"France..?"

"America hasn't stopped crying..," he whispered. "We're on our way..," he added, before hanging up.

The moment France hung up, England dropped his phone, his head falling into his arms on the table. He sat like that for a few moments before looking up sadly. "Bloody hell.." he whispered.

_

Gil and France dragged America into the meeting room, who was still sobbing. Registering where they were though, America threw himself into a startled England's arms, burying his face into the Englishman's chest, even though he was taller then him. England hugged him back, whispering soothing things, trying to comfort America and himself. Trembling, he felt tears fall from his eyes too, and he couldn't stop them. He buried his face into the American's hair and began to cry softly.

Prussia glanced around silently as America ran off, and nearly jumped when he felt arms around him. "West..," he whispered, seeing his brother's jacket on the arms hugging him. "Fuck, West. Why won't he get better?" he cried out, beginning to cry as well, grabbing on his little brothers jacket as he cried. Germany felt a pang in his chest.

"He'll be fine, East.. Canada's strong..," he whispered, clutching his brother tighter.

France stood their alone, then heard a frail, cute voice ringing out to him. "Francy-Pants!" wailed the little Italian, drawing a weak, sad smile from the Frenchman as he was knocked against the wall by the Italian, who was hugging him tightly and wailing, tears sliding down his pale face. "Canada will be okay, ve~? Right..?" he whispered. France buried his face into the Italian's hair, feeling another set of arms around him. Japan.

"I hope..," he whispered. "I hope.."


	3. Chapter 3

The five nations stood like that for around half an hour, most crying. America had begun to calm down, but refused to leave Iggy, much to the Englishman's content. After ten more minutes Germany cleared his throat, all eyes were drawn to him. "There is nothing ve can do," he said, "So let all get some rest, and see how he is in the morning," he suggested, earning approval from everybody. They were all tired.

_

_Where am I..?_ Canada thought weakly, unable to move at all without feeling pain. He felt terrible. His head hurt, he could hardly breathe, and it was extremely, uncomfortably hot. The room he was in was dark, and he could barely hear the sound of a light beep, beep, beep beside him. _The.. Hospital..?_ he thought, then beginning to feel the tubes all around his body. He sighed, then shut his eyes tightly as a light came on. After a few moments he opened them, now narrowed, again.

"Ahh. Matthew, glad to see you're awake!" the man whispered, coming over and kneeling beside him. Matthew just stared at him, unable to speak. He seemed to get the message. "You've been out for the past day. You nearly died," he explained, causing Matthew's heart to speed up. "Your brother and some friends are very worried about you, so you have to get better, da?" he asked. Matthew opened his mouth quietly,

"Are.. you.. Russian..,?" he whispered hoarsely. He nodded softly, Canada, being in his weak form, was unable to detect that his voice should be familiar.

"You'll need surgery, da?" the man explained, Matthew nodded. "It will take place tomorrow morning, either am sharp!" he chuckled, causing Matthew to shiver. "I'll be your surgeon," he added, smiling. Matthew nodded and smiled weakly back at him. "Goodnight Matthew..," he whispered, then exited.

"Don't let the Ivan's bite..,"

_

Ivan stepped out of the door, shutting it tightly as he grinned creepily, his purple aura over him. "Soon that land will be mine..," he whispered, "Soon that weak Canada will be dead, da?" he smiled, walking down the hall slowly. He had worked for years undercover here and also in that secret lab to earn both of their trusts. Then he had stolen that vicious disease, bringing the Canadian here. Everything was working out perfectly. He walked to a room, opening the door and peering in, smiling at the blood on the walls and the barely breathing body on the bed. The body shivered when it felt Russia's evil aura. Russia grabbed a mop and cleaned up the room and the boy, who would now most likely die, though bandaged. This boy had been his test subject, and Russia was quite surprised he had lasted this long. He chuckled his 'kolkolkolkol' before leaving the boy on the bed to die, and walking towards the surgery room, going to prepare for the day he had waited years for.

_

The others all awoke from a restless sleep the next morning, at around six in the morning. Italy, Germany, and Japan were all the first to awaken, America, as always, being the last. Despite the sleep, they all looked drained, both physically and mentally. It was true, as well. The hospital wasn't open for visitors for another three hours. _Three. Hours. Nine am._ America sighed, leaning back into his own chair now. England was staring at him worriedly, but something else was behind it. America wheeled his chair over to the Englishman, grabbing his hand and letting England's head rest on his shoulder. England was blushing now, and France was winking at him. "Stupid Frog..," he muttered, though a small smile was playing on his lips.

Germany and Italy had somehow joined together during the night, Italy clinging to Germany. Germany had awaken first and stared at the Italian, who he drew into his lap and hugged. He could have sworn he saw blood running from France's chin. A quick glare solved it, though.

That had left Prussia, France, and Japan alone. Each went to different areas of the room. Both to avoid getting slept with.

_

It was eight now and Ivan had come back, wearing a teal surgeon outfit. He smiled at Canada, who was awake and grabbed the ends of his bed, pushing it away and down the hall quickly. He entered the room and lifted the light Nation onto another bed gently, removing the oxygen mask. "Are you ready..?" he whispered, sending chills up Canada's spine.

"Aren't you going to give me the oxygen mask..? Or put me to sleep..?"

"Nah, that would ruin the fun, da?" Russia chuckled, followed by a low 'kolkolkolkol'. Canada stiffened and tried to get away. Russia chuckled and walked over, pressing a button. Metal cuffs appeared around Canada's neck, legs, and arms. Canada began to shake. Ivan then drew a rusty, blood coated knife. "So, you ready?" he breathed, taping the Canadians mouth shut. "You are? Good..," he chuckled. He took Canada's shirt of and lowered the knife towards the Canadians flesh and drew two straight lines under his ribcage, then followed them down his stomach and to his pelvis. Canada was trembling in fear and pain now. Russia then grabbed the Canadian's hair, pulling it harshly, causing a muffled scream to be heard. He laughed. He then raised a fist and punched the Canadian in the face, shattering one of his glasses lens. He walked to a table, grabbing his pipe and walking back. He began to beat the Canadian mercilessly, and the Canadian black out several times. Half an hour later, he finished. It was eight forty-five now. His brother and his friends would be here soon. Slowly, he took a blanket and covered Canada's body, placing the mask over his mouth and began walking him back to his room. No doctors were in sight, good. He slid the Canadian into his room and pulled the mask off, a smile playing on his lips. "Feeling better, da?" he whispered, before leaving the room and locking the door tightly, walking down the hall and to the surgery room. Soon he would have it. Soon his power would grow!


End file.
